


Reflection Superimposed

by Petra



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-04
Updated: 2007-02-04
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: The distance between Kara and Starbuck is the distance between hack and her cockpit.





	Reflection Superimposed

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Zee for encouraging me and Askmehow for beta reading.

The distance between Kara and Starbuck is the distance between hack and her cockpit.

Or it's the distance between her and the CAG -- the real one, not any nonsense about Captain Thrace -- in the middle of a briefing, where he's expecting Starbuck and every now and then he gets Kara.

It's worse -- way worse -- on _Pegasus_ , where they've all got their frakking heads up their asses in ways that wouldn't last on _Galactica_. _Galactica_ was about to be over, a final salute to a museum, and then she wasn't over. Will never be over, for Starbuck.

Even if they find Earth, Starbuck belongs to _Galactica_.

She's not going to try to explain that to Admiral Cain, who is three times the hardass Tigh tried to be on his pissiest day and she won't even think, here, of Adama.

Any of them.

Lee's still learning to yell like he's actually in charge, but he loses it every now and then, especially around Kara, and she has to yell back to remind him. Lee belongs in command, sometimes, just as hard and strong as his father ever is.

Which -- next to the Admiral -- is not a hell of a lot.

Back in the day, kids used to call the teacher who taught them how to tie their shoes and count to one hundred "Mom" by mistake. That's not something Kara ever did. The difference was too clear.

The Admiral looks nothing at all like her mother. Her mother would never get why she gave lawful orders the bird and flew to Caprica. And if her mother knew she'd fallen for someone who's probably already dead, there'd be hell to pay before Kara managed to get the words out. Cain makes it more than clear that she thinks Kara's a screwup in ways that don't leave a lot of room for Kara to say it about herself.

Admiral, she says, carefully. Sometimes she forgets the "Ad" part and just makes like she meant to do it. Only time she ever feels like Vice President "Call me Gaius" Baltar.

Admiral not-Mom-at-all would probably airlock Kara if she ever met her, out of sheer professional disgust. At least Starbuck is competent enough that her everyday frakups get ignored -- by Adamas, anyway, but they'll forgive her horrible, monumental, deadly frakups too.

She needs somebody else in charge, maybe. Somebody whose lines she hasn't crashed through twenty times and landed, way past the last defenses, to get forgiven for it.

Starbuck does the wrong thing in battle every now and then, plays the hero, gets other people and a lot of toasters blown into tiny pieces. But Starbuck mostly knows when to say "Sir" and when to say "Frak you, Sir."

That means Kara's not allowed to stand in Cain's ready room, where everyone stands because there are no chairs. Just Lieutenant Thrace -- whoever she is -- and Starbuck, if Starbuck is the one who's smart enough to be anybody's CAG.

Kara only shows up for a second -- she never has been very good at keeping her own rules straight, let alone following anybody's rules ever.

It's a long second, the way the second between pressing the trigger and watching the Raider on somebody else's six shatter into bloody and metallic fragments can stretch forever.

In the infinite second, Kara steps up, leans in, and kisses the Admiral who's in no position to love anybody, at all, and who's as soft and cuddly as a Viper.

She's as hard as she looks, and twice as cold.

"Captain," Cain says, and Kara knows damn well she's not a Captain, hasn't got the chops for it.

Starbuck tries to act the part, and step one definitely involves not kissing superior assholes.

"Sorry, sir." She can act ashamed -- Kara Thrace, interstellar screwup -- for the seconds until Cain touches her hair lightly.

"Fraternization between the ranks is strictly forbidden."

Maybe she could get away with it if she lied --and told the truth -- that in that moment the Admiral, inflexible as the code of conduct she's quoting, reminded her of her mother.

It would work better on anybody who's used to forgiving Starbuck for stupid human tricks on the basis of her flying. Cain didn't forgive her, she promoted her.

"Captain Thrace?" doesn't feel like forgiveness, especially not with the Admiral studying her like dradis in combat.

That means she can keep fighting, which is what Starbuck always does best. "A momentary aberration, sir," she says, and salutes.

"Ah," the Admiral says, her lips tightening. "Your record shows quite the collection of -- aberrations, Captain."

Starbuck doesn't grin like Kara, the frak-you-sir smile. She does her damnedest to mirror the Admiral's on-duty expression. "It won't happen again, sir."

"See that it doesn't. Dismissed, Captain," Cain says, and that's that.

The new CAG has a job to do.


End file.
